Rebecca Hagan Lee by Whisper Always

rain and the darkness looking for a mass of red hair against the gray stone. The makeshift rope reached below the second-floor windows but he couldn't see her. An experienced climber might make the jump without serious injury, but a young woman? "Cristina?" he called in a low, urgent voice.
    She heard him call her name and knew that one of the men she'd been trying to escape from had found her hanging for dear life, onto a rope made of bed sheets. "I'm here," she answered, afraid of what would happen when he rescued her, but more afraid of letting go of the rope.
    Blake grabbed hold of the pile of bed sheets and jerked.
    "Don't!" He heard the panic in her voice. "I can't hold on much longer. I'm slipping."
    "Bloody hell, Cristina! I thought you said you had good sense. Just hold on. I'm coming."
    "She ain't got a bloody lick!" The prostitute whistled again.
    "Stay here," Blake said to the girl, "and don't let anyone into the room except me." He raked his wet hair out of his eyes. "Christ! I've heard stories of girls who prefer death to ... to ... this!" he finished, at a loss for words.
    " 'Appens all the time in my line of work. But not tonight. Not to your young lady, guvnor." She grinned. "We got 'ere in time to save 'er."
    "Lord Lawrence?" Cristina called from below. "Hurry!"
    "I'm on my way." He sprinted out the door and down a flight of stairs, praying all the while that he would get to Cristina in time.
    When he reached the second floor, Blake tried door after door until he found one that wasn't locked. He pulled the heavy velvet drapes open and spotting the white rope, quickly unfastened the window, swung it open, and glanced down. Cristina clung to the knot of sheets about two feet away.
    "Cristina?"
    She looked up and breathed a grateful sigh when she saw him. "Lord Lawrence."
    "I'm going to pull you up," he explained. "Hold on tight."
    Blake carefully pulled the line of sheets up the wall and over the window casement until Cristina Fairfax lay huddled on the floor. She wore one petticoat and her traveling cloak. A bare, shapely calf was exposed to his view and she was soaked to the skin. He struggled out of his coat and placed it around her, before he leaned forward to pick her up.
    Cristina wrapped her arms around his neck in a stranglehold and buried her face against his damp shirtfront. She listened to the thumping of his heart and admitted, "I was more afraid of falling than I was of you."
    "It's all right. You're safe," he said, inhaling the scent of her. She smelled of rainwater and strong wine and a floral perfume he couldn't name.
    "I've got some business to attend to upstairs," Blake explained, "then I'll take you home."
    "No."
    He saw the flash of alarm in her green eyes. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm taking you someplace safe."
    Too tired and wet and cold to do anything else, Cristina huddled against Blake as he carried her out of the room and back up a flight of stairs.
    The young prostitute met him at the door to Rudolf's apartments. "Looks like she was bolstering her nerve a bit." She held up another half-empty bottle of wine.
    Blake placed Cristina on the chair near the fire and tucked a lap robe around her. Cristina closed her eyes, too exhausted to fight any longer.
    The prostitute followed him to the chair, then leaned in for a closer look at Cristina and whispered, "Cor! She looks almost like me!"
    "She doesn't talk like you," Blake reminded her.
    "I bet she doesn't do lots of things like me." She glanced pointedly at the empty bed, then licked her lips.
    Blake ignored her flirtation. "In that case, grab those sheets--you'll need them."
    The girl muttered beneath her breath as she hauled the rope of wet linens inside the window and carried them back to the bed. She untied the knots in the sheets, then flipped back the top covers. The mattresses were bare.
    "These ain't going to do me no good," she said, showing Blake the halves of a monogrammed sheet.
    "Give them to me," he